


To Overwhelm; Dazzle

by blehgah



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Non-Idol AU, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and we all died!, so the pics of vocal team for the dazed photoshoot came out, so: porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blehgah/pseuds/blehgah
Summary: Jihoon's been craving some love from his boyfriend. He doesn't have a plan, but whatever. Everything's bound to work out as they should.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is just straight-out smut ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Jihoon doesn’t have a plan.

How do you even plan for this shit, anyway? ‘Hey babe, I’ve been craving that sweet cock of yours recently. Like, a whole bunch. A ton, you might say. Let’s fuck.’ As a songwriter, Jihoon might give himself some credit in ways of arranging words to create a mildly compelling sentence. But when it comes to this particular subject…

Or maybe it’s just the fact that the subject is himself. He’s a little self-conscious—maybe. Okay, maybe more than maybe. Perhaps a tiny bit a lot.

With a quivering breath, Jihoon looks at his reflection in the mirror. His hair is a mop of brown locks on the top of his head. His cheeks are flushed from his inappropriate thoughts and his lips are slightly swollen from when he’d bitten them while thinking his inappropriate thoughts.

He checks his phone.

[ **Seungcheol** ]:   
_ gonna be home a bit late, love. sorry about that. it’s been a long day. _

It’s been an hour since Jihoon received that text. At the time, he thought, oh, poor Seungcheollie. Maybe I ought to make it up to him.

It took all of five minutes for Jihoon to come to the conclusion that sex would be the perfect pick-me-up.

He still doesn’t have a plan.

He manages to kill twenty minutes by cleaning up their bedroom a bit and taking a shower. As he stands in the doorway of their bedroom, a towel hanging loose off his hips, he thinks, fuck a plan. He’ll wing it. It’s not like you can really plan for these things, anyway.

Jihoon towels off his hair before he looks in the mirror again. His skin is still flushed, but at least now he can blame it on the heat of the water and a bit of haphazard towelling. It’s a healthy glow, right?

He’s slowly dragging his towel over his shoulders when he hears the door open.

“I’m home!” Seungcheol calls. His voice mingles with the sound of the door closing and the jingle of keys falling onto their kitchen counter. Footsteps echo through the flat as Seungcheol sheds his coat and puts his belongings away.

“Uh…” Jihoon mutters, mostly to himself. He chances a look in the mirror. Well, better not ruin the surprise, right?

“I’m in the bedroom,” Jihoon calls back without much confidence. He screws his eyes shut. Maybe a plan would have been beneficial.

“Too busy to say hi? Or too lazy?” Seungcheol replies. 

They’ve done this before, the whole shouting across the apartment bit. Seungcheol’s got a strong voice and it carries well. Jihoon knows that voice very well and he is very aware of the sounds that voice can make.

“Guess,” Jihoon shoots back.

Just for that, Jihoon trudges over to the bed and gets comfy. Why bother with a plan when you’ve got all the weapons you need on your person, ready to go at any given moment?

“That’s Jihoon-talk for ‘lazy’,” Seungcheol says with a slight chuckle. His voice gets louder, as do his footsteps, until he appears in the doorway of their bedroom.

Seungcheol works some banal office job with numbers and number analysis. It’s gross. Jihoon knows he’s the more exciting one of the two of them, working production with a local broadcast station. But at least that means that Seungcheol’s always in a well-fitted dress shirt and slacks.

Standing in the doorway with his hips cocked to the side, Seungcheol paints the picture of perfection. Jihoon shifts his head on his pillow to get a better look at his boyfriend’s impressive profile.

His eyes start from Seungcheol’s socked feet—they match for once, nice—and climb slowly up the length of his legs. Seungcheol’s got thighs you can really sink your teeth into and an ass that can barely be contained by pants. Jihoon would rather Seungcheol go without the pants, but he can’t really be a contributive citizen without pants. Pity.

The curve of Seungcheol’s waist invites Jihoon’s hands, sturdy and solid, and the line of buttons down the length of his shirt leads Jihoon’s eyes over the expanse of Seungcheol’s wide chest. Jihoon has memorized every dip of skin and muscle in Seungcheol’s chest and stomach with both his eyes and his hands, but every time Seungcheol sheds his clothing, it still manages to feel new.

“Jihoonie?” Seungcheol asks, grinning when their eyes finally meet. “You look like you’re ready to pounce,” he jokes. He finally pushes off the doorway and approaches the bed; Jihoon knows that Seungcheol was watching Jihoon undress him with his eyes, the smug prick.

Jihoon sits up. The sheets fall away from his body, gathering in a pool over his waist and legs. His skin and hair are both slightly damp and warm to the touch; Seungcheol hums as he brushes his fingers over Jihoon’s jaw.

“Would you like that?” Jihoon asks. His voice wavers as it floats out of his throat, but Seungcheol seems drawn to the weakness, a natural predator; Jihoon licks his lips and feels Seungcheol’s eyes follow the motion. “I can pounce, if you want.”

“Yeah?” Seungcheol asks. His voice is low and his eyelashes brush his cheekbones as he drags his gaze over Jihoon’s chest. “How generous.”

“You said you had a bad day, so…” Jihoon trails off and reaches out to touch Seungcheol’s wrist. “Your wish is my command, I guess.”

“That’s convincing.”

Jihoon feels blood flood his face. “You know I’m no good at this sort of thing,” he mutters.

“I know for a fact that you’re full of shit,” Seungcheol replies easily. His eyes return to Jihoon’s face. “You’re more than good at ‘this sort of thing’.”

A crooked smile curves Jihoon’s lips. “Okay, fine, maybe I know a few things,” Jihoon admits. “I’m just saying. It’s your call.”

“Is it now?”

Seungcheol seems full of questions today. He shifts in his seat, bringing one leg farther up the bed so he can cup Jihoon’s jaw in both hands. With a gentle tug, he brings their mouths together, sweet and undemanding.

The leisurely pace doesn’t last long; Jihoon has better plans. So he maybe does have a plan after all—and it involves making Seungcheol melt under his fingers, making him moan until his voice can barely rasp Jihoon’s name, making him see stars when he comes.

Jihoon licks into Seungcheol’s mouth until he whines and pulls back, panting.

“Seems like it’s  _ your  _ call, Jihoonie,” Seungcheol says around shallow breaths. He grins, wide and toothy and hungry, and Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” 

“Would you rather I put something else there, then?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes again and pushes Seungcheol’s chest. “Strip,” he says before settling back against the pillows.

With a slight nod, Seungcheol returns to his feet. He doesn’t make a show of undressing, but to Jihoon, it will never be anything but that. Seungcheol’s fingers fly over his buttons with ease, and Jihoon considers those fingers for a moment or two, thinking about their width and weight and how they feel against his skin, under his tongue, between his legs.

Seungcheol’s stepping out of his pants when Jihoon’s head comes back to his body.

“Nice socks, by the way,” Jihoon says with a wry smile.

Seungcheol looks up and beams at him. “I organized my sock drawer on Sunday,” he explains.

“I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s all for you, babe.”

Jihoon snorts. Seungcheol peels off the socks and sets them aside. He crawls onto the bed and settles back on his heels, regarding Jihoon with warm eyes. 

They hold each other’s gaze for a breath, then Jihoon’s reaching for Seungcheol’s chin and bringing their lips together. Seungcheol opens for him without an ounce of hesitation: he tilts his head when Jihoon leans forward, resting warm palms on Jihoon’s waist to brace himself.

“Your hair looks nice,” Seungcheol says after a bit, pulling back to card his fingers through Jihoon’s hair.

“Didn’t brush it,” Jihoon replies. He goes for Seungcheol’s mouth again, only to be denied when Seungcheol leans back once more.

“Did you shower before I came home?” Seungcheol asks. “Without me?”

“You know it’s not worth the trouble,” Jihoon says, biting back a sigh. He drops both hands to Seungcheol’s hips and lightly presses his nails into the skin there. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks, impatient.

Chuckling, Seungcheol runs gentle fingertips over Jihoon’s cheekbones. “Just having some fun,” he responds. A smirk curls his lips. “You been thinking about this for a while?”

This time, Jihoon sits back. “Are you trying to piss me off?” Jihoon asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Seungcheol’s hand falls from Jihoon’s face. Within seconds, both his hands are on Jihoon’s thighs, nudging them open.

“No, never,” Seungcheol replies. He drags rough hands up the insides of Jihoon’s sensitive thighs and Jihoon whines between closed teeth.

“Fucker,” Jihoon mutters. His body bends to Seungcheol’s will regardless; he arches his back as Seungcheol’s hands climb higher and higher.

“I’d rather you call me by my name, sweetheart.”

“Fuckface McShithead?” Jihoon says despite his laboured breath. 

Seungcheol chuckles and presses his thumbs against the seam of Jihoon’s thighs, right at the base of Jihoon’s cock. 

“Try again,” Seungcheol murmurs. He digs his nails in and Jihoon spreads his legs wider.

“Seungcheol,” Jihoon pants.

“Good.”

Seungcheol dips his head and kisses Jihoon’s hungry mouth, sucking Jihoon’s tongue in between his teeth. His thumbs continue their path up the junction of Jihoon’s thighs, running along the circumference of muscle rather than going where Jihoon would like. 

“Hmm,” Jihoon sighs, turning his head away when Seungcheol slides his mouth over the edge of Jihoon’s jaw. “Tease,” he mutters.

“I’m just savouring the moment,” Seungcheol replies. His mouth is hot and wet against the column of Jihoon’s throat, and the sensation intensifies when Seungcheol parts his lips and drags his tongue and teeth over Jihoon’s skin.

Whining, Jihoon falls back against the bed, dragging Seungcheol down with him. He unfolds his legs and rests his heels against Seungcheol’s back. For the moment, he’s content just to feel Seungcheol’s weight above him. With a shaky sigh, Jihoon presses his hands down the expanse of Seungcheol’s torso, enjoying the firm muscle that greets him, a body he knows so well yet always manages to captivate him.

Jihoon presses tense fingers into Seungcheol’s sides when Seungcheol’s hands return to his thighs. Seungcheol’s touch is unrelenting as he tracks his fingers up and under Jihoon’s legs, afforded new areas thanks to Jihoon’s position.

“What happened to pouncing?” Seungcheol asks; his voice is thick and husky. He rubs insistent thumbs into the curve of Jihoon’s legs.

“I told you, it’s your call,” Jihoon replies. His hands rise to cup Seungcheol’s jaw, lifting Seungcheol’s head so their eyes can meet. “What do you want?”

“You, of course,” Seungcheol says immediately.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Obviously I wouldn’t be here if that weren’t the case,” he deadpans. “Don’t play stupid.”

“Would you mind if I said I wanted you to decide?” Seungcheol asks, leaning down to nose Jihoon’s cheek.

“Not if that was what you really wanted,” Jihoon replies.

“It is.”

They exchange another short and sweet kiss. Jihoon looks up at his boyfriend and rubs a thumb over Seungcheol’s cheek. With careful hands, Jihoon nudges Seungcheol’s shoulders until they’ve flipped positions.

“Then,” Jihoon starts, holding his body an inch or two above Seungcheol’s, “I want you to suck my cock.”

Seungcheol grins, his expression dark and burning. “Gladly.”

Jihoon crawls up the length of Seungcheol’s body. He stops when his knees come up to Seungcheol’s shoulders, and Seungcheol sits up a bit to accommodate his boyfriend’s weight.

With a quiet hum, Jihoon gives himself a few strokes, his cock hardening right before Seungcheol’s lips. Seungcheol licks them as he watches. Heat pools in Jihoon’s belly as he witnesses Seungcheol’s open anticipation, so eager to please.

“Open up,” Jihoon murmurs. His voice seems so far away, but Seungcheol hears him nonetheless, looks happy to, and leans forward to slide his mouth over Jihoon’s cock.

Moaning, Jihoon pushes his hips forward nice and slow. The wet heat of Seungcheol’s mouth lights a fire in his veins, and Jihoon would happily burn.

Seungcheol’s hands come up to steady Jihoon’s hips, but his grip is loose. His fingers play with the supple flesh of Jihoon’s ass. His gentle hold invites Jihoon to thrust forward; the movement is shallow at first, patient and cautious, but then Seungcheol grabs fistfuls of Jihoon’s ass and pulls him forward until the head of his swollen cock hits the back of Seungcheol’s throat.

“Seungcheol!” Jihoon cries, his voice breaking at the end. He plants both hands on the top of Seungcheol’s head and strokes Seungcheol’s scalp with a delicate touch. “Careful, baby,” Jihoon pants.

Seungcheol shakes his head and pulls Jihoon forward again. Though Jihoon’s body trembles, he manages to balance his weight on his knees so that he can fulfill Seungcheol’s unspoken request: he repositions his hands on the bed headboard and begins to fuck into Seungcheol’s waiting mouth.

Long, drawn out moans spill from Jihoon’s bowed head. His shoulders burn as he rests his weight on his arms, trying not to lean too heavily on Seungcheol, but the sensation is lost to the torrent of heat that encases his erection.

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol,” Jihoon calls as he jerks his hips forward. Seungcheol moans around Jihoon’s cock, dragging another rough sound from the pit of Jihoon’s chest, and tries his best to meet Jihoon’s thrusts.

“Fuck, Seungcheol,” Jihoon whines, “I’m gonna—fuck, do you want me to come down your throat?”

Seungcheol nods. His tongue is absolutely sinful under the weight of Jihoon’s cock, and his greedy swallows drive Jihoon up the wall. Jihoon thrusts wildly, vaguely acknowledging the accommodating shift of Seungcheol’s jaw, and comes in hot spurts against the back of Seungcheol’s throat.

Panting, Jihoon stays in place, buried up to the hilt in Seungcheol’s mouth as Seungcheol’s tongue milks him for all he’s worth. When he finally stops, Seungcheol gives Jihoon’s ass a pat.

“Fuck,” Jihoon croaks. He sits back onto Seungcheol’s chest and tries to catch his breath.

Smirking, Seungcheol wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His face is incredibly flushed, red up to his ears, but he looks beyond satisfied.

“I love it when you finally let go,” Seungcheol comments. He cups Jihoon’s ass again, pulling Jihoon forward so he can press a line of kisses along the inside of Jihoon’s thigh.

“You…” Jihoon starts, but he trails off when he realizes he can’t find the words to express what he wants. Instead, he shakes his head and climbs off Seungcheol’s chest.

With a quiet huff of breath, Seungcheol sits up against the headboard. He reaches out and pulls Jihoon’s mouth against his, slotting his tongue between Jihoon’s lips. Jihoon can taste remnants of his own cum and he shivers.

“Now, Jihoonie,” Seungcheol murmurs, pulling back. “Would you ride me?” he asks sweetly.

Nodding, Jihoon manages a shaky smirk and says, “Gladly.”

Seungcheol grins back at him.

On quivering legs, Jihoon crawls over to the nightstand and fishes out a tube of lube. He pours a generous amount over his hand and returns to Seungcheol’s lap. It doesn’t take him long to get comfortable over the supple, supportive expanse of Seungcheol’s thighs.

When Jihoon finally wraps his fingers around Seungcheol’s cock, Seungcheol exhales a quiet whimper. Jihoon grins.

“Did you like that?” Jihoon asks, twisting his hand on the upstroke. “Did you like it when I fucked your mouth?”

Seungcheol’s head lolls back on his shoulders. His long eyelashes flutter over his cheekbones as his eyelids grow heavy.

“Yes, Jihoonie,” Seungcheol groans.

“You’re so bossy, even when taking my cock like that,” Jihoon continues in a thoughtful tone. “Pulling at me again and again—so eager. God.”

“You taste good,” Seungcheol replies with a goofy grin. His eyes have finally fallen shut.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Soon enough, Seungcheol’s moaning, thrusting his hips up into the welcoming heat of Jihoon’s hand.

“Hey,” Jihoon murmurs, “don’t get carried away, Cheollie.”

Seungcheol cracks his eyes open and smiles at his boyfriend. “Get on my cock, then,” he says around a crooked grin.

Thanks to his earlier orgasm and a few moments of prep in the shower, Jihoon sinks onto Seungcheol’s dick with ease. A long sigh filters out of Jihoon’s mouth as he tilts his head back, savouring the burn.

“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol coos, gathering Jihoon into his arms. As Jihoon rests his hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders, folded up against Seungcheol’s chest, Seungcheol snakes a hand down between their bodies and takes Jihoon’s cock with a firm grip.

Jihoon inhales sharply. “S-Seungcheol,” he murmurs, leaning forward to bury his face in the crook of Seungcheol’s neck.

“Do you think you could come again, Jihoonie?” Seungcheol asks, his lips right by Jihoon’s ear.

With a muffled grunt, Jihoon shrugs.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue and reaches for the lube. He slicks up his hand and returns it to Jihoon’s dick.

“What if I asked nicely?” Seungcheol coos.

“Fucker,” Jihoon mumbles. He mouths at Seungcheol’s neck and lifts himself up slowly. Seungcheol’s free hand comes around to steady Jihoon’s hips, but he can only hold on when Jihoon slams his weight onto Seungcheol’s cock on the downstroke.

Throwing his head back, Jihoon digs his fingers into Seungcheol’s shoulders. He moans, long and unrestrained, as he establishes a brutal rhythm.

With a gasp, Seungcheol curls his hand into a bruising grip around Jihoon’s hip.

“Jihoonie, you…” Seungcheol groans. For a moment, he’s totally unable to focus, his mind lost to the sudden heat and friction pouring pure pleasure into the pit of his pelvis. From this angle, he can’t thrust up, as much as he’d like to—Jihoon is in complete control of the situation.

Grinning wickedly, Jihoon continues to bounce up and down Seungcheol’s cock. His own erection slaps against his stomach with every jerk of his hips; it isn’t long before Jihoon grabs Seungcheol’s lube-slicked hand and directs it to his hardening cock.

“I’ll come again,” Jihoon tells him, leaning forward to lick along Seungcheol’s jaw. He stops by Seungcheol’s ear and teases an earring with his tongue. “If that’s what you really want,” he adds.

“Of course,” Seungcheol replies immediately. “Of course, baby. Of course I want you to come.”

“Good.”

Jihoon presses a sweet kiss to Seungcheol’s cheek before he pulls back and claims Seungcheol’s mouth. His kiss is hard and demanding, unapologetically thorough. Seungcheol tips his head back and welcomes Jihoon’s persistent tongue with a pleased hum.

The slap of skin on skin, slick and obscene, vibrates through the room, echoed by their muffled groans. Seungcheol’s head swims with pleasure as Jihoon engulfs him again and again, greedy, hungry, insatiable. In return, Jihoon’s eyes screw shut, his body sensitive to the friction of Seungcheol’s hand on his cock and the merciless pressure against the bundle of nerves deep inside him.

“Yes, fuck, Seungcheol,” Jihoon moans. When Seungcheol twists his hand just so, Jihoon whimpers and cries out Seugncheol’s name.

Seungcheol grins through his laboured breathing and says, “Are you gonna come for me, Jihoonie?”

Jihoon’s eyes flutter open, revealing dark, sharp eyes. They cut straight through Seungcheol’s body as Jihoon smirks.

“Not before you do,” Jihoon murmurs. He shifts his weight a bit so he can increase his pace. It’s a small victory when he manages to contain his resulting whines.

“I-Is that a challenge?” Seungcheol asks.

“What does it sound like?”

Jihoon keeps shifting, keeps adjusting until he hears Seungcheol’s breath hitch. That’s it. That’s the perfect angle, and Jihoon abuses it, grinding down at a vicious speed.

“Jihoon! Jihoonie,” Seungcheol keens, “god—fuck—”

If he could, Jihoon would be grinning so widely. His laboured breaths warp his mouth, however, but he’s content to watch Seungcheol fall apart under him. It’s enough to coax Seungcheol’s hands onto Jihoon’s waist, holding on for dear life as Jihoon wrenches him to his peak.

Seungcheol jerks forward and sinks his teeth into Jihoon’s shoulder. Hot cum fills Jihoon to the brim, but Jihoon continues anyway, bouncing up and down while chasing his own release. Now that he’s won his self-imposed challenge, Jihoon deserves a reward, doesn’t he?

“Touch me,” Jihoon pants.

Seungcheol complies without a moment of hesitation. It only takes a few pumps of his hand to pull Jihoon over the edge. His come dribbles over Seungcheol’s hand as Jihoon rides out the last moments of his orgasm.

With a shaky, throaty sound, Jihoon leans forward and dumps the entirety of his weight against Seungcheol’s chest. Seungcheol catches him easily.

“Mmm,” Jihoon hums into Seungcheol’s collarbone. “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” Seungcheol asks. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Work,” Jihoon mumbles in reply. He nuzzles his cheek against Seungcheol’s neck. “It’s been a busy time for both of us.”

“True.”

Seungcheol carefully separates their bodies, pulling Jihoon’s ass off his softening cock. Whimpering quietly, Jihoon circles his arms around Seungcheol’s neck and presses his face into his skin.

“Don’t want to clean up first?” Seungcheol asks around a laugh.

“Later,” Jihoon sighs. He drags Seungcheol down to the pillows with him.

Seungcheol’s arms are strong and solid around Jihoon’s ribs. With one last kiss to Jihoon’s temple, Seungcheol settles down and lets Jihoon pull him into dreamland.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twitter @shujeongs for that sweet jicheol


End file.
